


I’ve Got A Crush On You, Sweetie Pie

by ithinkimawriter (Serial_Writer)



Category: Joker (2019)
Genre: Angst, Angst and Fluff and Smut, Angst with a Happy Ending, Eventual Smut, F/M, Fluff and Angst, Romance, Smut
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-06-01
Updated: 2020-06-02
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:53:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 3,441
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24495268
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Serial_Writer/pseuds/ithinkimawriter
Summary: You finally find it in yourself to confess your feelings for your neighbor. Bad timing, really.
Relationships: Arthur Fleck & Reader, Arthur Fleck & You, Arthur Fleck/Reader, Arthur Fleck/You
Comments: 1
Kudos: 53





	1. I’ve Got A Crush On You, Sweetie Pie

**Author's Note:**

> Story transferred over from my writing blog on Tumblr under the same name.

You were in the elevator when he came in, funny thing was the both of you almost always shared the elevator. Sometimes it was in the mornings on your way to work, other times it was when you were coming back home to try and sleep away the horrors of the day.

Truth be told, you preferred to see him in the mornings. He was still fresh-faced, naively believing maybe this day would be better than the last. It never was. It was definitely better than seeing him battered and bruised and not being able to do anything because not only was he not even aware of your existence, what could you actually do? If you could swallow up his sadness and wrap yourself protectively around him, you would. But this was the real world, the best people always got dealt the worst hand and nobody could do a damn thing about it.

You heard Sophie shouting for one of you to hold the elevator. You weren’t afraid to admit that you kind of hoped he wouldn’t. Not because you didn’t like Sophie, she was one of the nicest people in the building and you’d even babysat for her on one or two occasions. Honestly, you cherished the few moments you got Arthur all to yourself. Sure, you’d never actually spoken a word to him. He always looked so preoccupied and sad, but you swore you’d work up the courage one day.

Still, you looked forward to those few minutes where you would get to see him, usually tightly holding a crinkly paper bag, other times a newspaper. His scent, cigarettes and cologne, held you over until the next day though often times you found yourself smelling your clothes when you got to your apartment, hoping maybe his scent had clung to them the same way you wanted to cling to him.

In those few minutes in the elevator, where it seemed you were completely invisible since he had never even turned towards you, you could stare at him all you wanted, uninterrupted. Your eyes would trace his jaw, the roundness of his nose, the prominent laugh lines on his face which you always found weird. How could someone who always seemed to be frowning even get laugh lines? God, you could imagine yourself wrapped in his arms, inhaling that unique scent that made shivers run down your spine.

As you watched Sophie climb into the elevator with the two of you, her daughter in tow, you tried to hide your disappointment with a tight smile directed towards the two newcomers who were offering you a friendly wave.

Seconds passed before you faintly heard Sophie speaking, complaining about the rickety building no doubt. She wasn’t talking to you, and even if she was, all you did was shrink further into the corner you had backed yourself into, out of view from Arthur. As if that made a difference. He wouldn’t see you even if you stood centimeters in front of his face. 

The pang in your chest drowned out everything that was said next, if anything was even said. You saw the way he looked at her, you knew that look. And you couldn’t blame him. Sophie was gorgeous, funny and an absolute gem. You’d fall for her too if you weren’t head over heels for Arthur.

You sighed quietly, lowering your eyes to the floor as you willed the damn elevator to hurry up and let you out of the four walls that had suddenly become a prison. You’d always been claustrophobic but the silent ride with Arthur always brought you comfort and you never seemed to notice your discomfort.

Finally, the door opened, and you watched Sophie push herself off of the wall behind her, making her way out of the elevator, Arthur and his wide smile right behind her.

You swallowed and silently made your way out as well, before the damn door decided to trap you inside. You heard him calling out to her and as you pushed your key into your door, you briefly closed your eyes and imagined he was talking to you. From the corner of your eye, you watched their exchange, a giggle bubbling past your lips as you watched the funny face he’d made at her before opening the door and just as quickly shutting it behind you, not noticing the way Arthur’s eyes fell on you the moment he heard your soft laugh, his head cocking to the side and a smile taking over his lips.

——————————————-  
Bad days were a natural occurrence for you. Being a waitress in a seedy town like Gotham meant you had to deal with shady, disrespectful characters and had you not needed the money to survive, you would’ve left your shitty job a long time ago.

You clambered into the elevator, your tired and aching feet protesting every second of the way. You twiddled your thumbs, not bothering to look up as the elevator began its painful climb up. Distinctly, you noticed how the elevator creaked louder than usual and before you could send a quick prayer up above, hoping the elevator wouldn’t break down with you in it, the death trap you were currently in came to a screeching halt and the light dimmed down with three flickers.

A curse fell from your lips and it was only as you began banging on the closed doors that you noticed Arthur in front of the number panel, his lips drawn into a tight line as he looked at you, his hand lightly wrapped around his throat.

You knew what he was doing. You’d seen him suffering an attack once or twice before. With a sigh, you went back to the farthest corner away from him, figuring he’d need his space and you didn’t want to bother him as you freaked out.

With a whimper, you slid down on to the floor, hugging your knees to your chest as you covered your face with your hands.

1, 2, 3, 4, 5, 6, 7, 8, 9, 10. You kept counting, breathing deeply in between in hopes the walls would stop moving in on you.

He’d stopped laughing a while ago but you couldn’t look up. The damn walls were squeezing you and you were having difficulty breathing. You dropped your hands to your sides, breathing in through your nose, his unique scent bringing you a small sense of peace but your brain kept replaying the different ways in which you would surely die tonight all because you couldn’t afford to live in a building that had a working elevator.

Yet another whimper left you, your hands tightening into fists at your side. Suddenly, warmth met your hand, prying your fist open and intertwining your fingers together.

With a gasp, you lifted your head and were met with shockingly green eyes peering at you, a soft smile on his lips and for a moment you forgot how to breathe.

“It’s going to be okay, miss. This happened to me last week. It’ll start working again in no time.”

A choked sob left your throat, your lungs on fire as they finally realized you hadn’t been breathing. His face softened once more as he gently sat next to you, pulling you into his side and wrapping his arm around you, his hand rubbing comfortingly on the shoulder furthest away from him.

“I’m sorry Arthur,” you cried, gripping the cable-knit sweater under his hoodie as you tried to take calming breaths, “I suffer from claustrophobia. I’ve been going to therapy for it and I thought I was getting better… I just hadn’t gotten trapped in a fucking elevator before.”

His body shook under you as he chuckled, his arm tightening around you and you could actually feel yourself slowing calming down.

“For what it’s worth, I think you’re doing really good.”

You took one last deep breath, taking him in before you pulled your face out of your hiding spot on his chest.

With one last smile his way, you laid your head back against the elevator’s grab bar, giddily aware of how his arm remained wrapped around you.

Moments of silence went by and while not uncomfortable, you yearned for him to speak again, wanting nothing more than for him to address you with his soft yet raspy voice.

“How do you know who I am?”

His question caught you off guard, the laughter that spilled past your lips a clear testament to that.

Arthur’s arm left your side and before you had time to protest at the lack of his warmth, the elevator’s light flickered back on as it resumed its ascend.

With a sigh, you hoisted yourself up from the floor, dusting yourself and gathering the things you’d discarded moments before.

“How do I know you? What answer do you want?” you questioned, turning back to him briefly as the doors opened.

Arthur’s eyebrows furrowed in confusion as he watched you hold the doors with your foot, much like he had earlier in the week for Sophie and her daughter.

“Answer A would be, we’ve lived on the same floor for as long as I can remember. I’ve seen you around. Answer B would be, I’ve had a crush on you for just as long.”

With that, you slipped all of the way out, turning back to him as he stood frozen on the same spot you had been occupying seconds ago.

You lifted your hand and gave him a smile before turning around and walking towards your apartment.

“Have yourself a good night Arthur.”


	2. I Fell and It Was Swell

You glared at the elevator as you passed it by, opting to take the stairs instead. You swore you were doing this because the treacherous metal prison had tried to eat you alive. Deep down inside, you knew you were simply avoiding Arthur.

It had been two weeks since your ill-timed confession. Honestly, you shouldn’t have done that at all. It was ridiculous. What outcome had you actually been expecting? He probably thought you were a weirdo or even worse, he probably didn’t think about that night at all. You’d been invisible up until that point, surely you’d returned to that position right after.

One step at a time, you began the infinite trek towards your apartment, truly hating being so high up. Or maybe you were just moody because it had been two weeks since you’d seen the only sense of happiness this fucked up city had to offer you.

After what you swore could’ve been hours, you were finally in front of your door. As you inserted the key into the lock, you allowed yourself one longing glance at Arthur’s apartment door, hoping maybe he would come out and you could catch one fleeting look at him. He didn’t.

The door creaked behind you as it shut on its own and while you were usually very careful to make sure you always locked the door behind you, the need to peel off your coffee stained clothes distracted you.

On muscle memory alone, you made it into your room, unceremoniously throwing your purse on your bed before shimmying out of your filthy clothes, attempting to throw them in to the hamper but not quite making it.

Too tired to care, you turned towards your dresser and blindingly pulled out what felt like acceptable sleeping clothes. With a shrug, you accepted the loose, peach colored shorts you knew barely covered your ass and the black tank-top in your hands. You pulled out a clean pair of underwear and yanked a clean towel from random hook you had on the wall, and then went into your crowded bathroom, intent on taking the quickest shower known to man.

———————-

Sighing contentedly at the cleanliness coming out of your every pore, you tightly wrapped your towel on your wet hair and quickly slipped on your clothes.

You made it into the kitchen fully aware that you were hungry and needed to eat but knowing you were too tired to actually fix yourself something. With a groan, you begrudgingly grabbed an apple and made your way back into the living room, intent on watching shitty late-night television until you accidentally fell asleep on the couch, alone. Nothing new.

Your routine was close to its completion when pounding on your door startled you back into full alertness. You jumped up from the couch, your eyes quickly scanning your surroundings for something that could be fashioned into a weapon. With an empty vase in your hands, you made your way to the door, hoping the old, scratched up peephole would let you see who was at your door this late at night. Just as you rested you hand on the doorknob and began leaning in to the middle of the door, the door was pushed open, the creaking of its rusty hinges signaling how much force was used.

With a shriek you managed to get out of the way of what was a sure hit, your eyes widening as you came face to face with a disheveled Arthur, smudged clown makeup covered his face, but you knew it was him. His scent sent shivers down your spine as you allowed yourself to take a shuddering breath.

He stared at you for what seemed like an eternity, blinking comically slow as his eyes roamed over your body and it was then that you remembered what you were wearing. With shaky hands, you tried to pull at your shorts, hoping to preserve some decency in front of Arthur.

With his foot, he shut the door behind him and in a couple of strides he was in front of you, his body trapping you between him and the wall. His panting breaths bathed your lips, his hands gently gripped the sides of your neck and you couldn’t help but take a step closer to him, wanting all of him to invade your senses.

Then, he leaned in.

Sure, you should’ve stopped him. Asked questions, find out why he was in your apartment, his lips bruising and unforgiving against yours. But as he roughly palmed your breasts through your shirt and forcibly dredged his knee in between your legs, you realized you didn’t actually care. 

Arthur was in your apartment, his lips on yours, showering you with attention and, realistically, what would take priority over that?

With a moan, you pushed your upper body into him, your hands tangling in his hair and pressing his lips even closer to yours.

He grinned against you, his fingers pulling at the thin straps of your tank top, the flimsy fabric snapping without much resistance and you felt yourself gasp as he pulled the remnants of the shirt down, exposing your breasts. 

Arthur’s hands cupped your ass as he lifted you up, your legs wrapping around his hips while he pressed himself further into you, the hard wall digging painfully into your back.

His mouth found your nipple, his teeth grazing the hardened bud and you ground yourself into his crotch, his hard length bringing a moan to your lips.

Arthur groaned at that, his hand splaying around your neck as he pushed your head back, exposing your neck to his roaming lips and teeth.

“Fuck Arthur, you’re killing me,” you murmured, the thickness of your voice surprising you.

With a chuckle he brought his hand down in between the both of you, his middle finger easily slipping into you due to the loose shorts you were wearing.

You whimpered, your hips instinctively rocking against his digit. He gazed at you with wonder and awe, not quite comprehending how he could be the cause for your unravelling.

Arthur added another finger, the curses and moans falling from your lips instantly becoming his favorite song.

Soon, you clenched around his fingers, your hands which were buried in his dark locks yanked at him as you came hard.

Once your shaking had stopped, Arthur pulled his fingers out, gazing at his glistening digits in amazement.

He tentatively licked the tip of his index finger, his eyes widening in delight before he shoved both of them inside of his mouth, the obscene way in which his tongue swirled around them as he moaned in ecstasy enough to light a fire deep inside of you again.

“Please fuck me,” you begged, your lips brushing against his temple.

Arthur released his fingers with a pop and while keeping you in his arms, carried you to your bedroom.

He gently set you down on the bed, his lips finding yours for a short kiss before he straightened up and quickly removed his clothes.

In an attempt to speed up the process, you tried to do the same, only for him to playfully swat your hands away.

You cocked your eyebrow in question and were simply met with a smirk as he joined you on the bed, his own nimble fingers ridding you of your clothes.

“You’re so fucking beautiful, Y/N,” he confessed, his legs on either side of you, his hard length pressing against your thigh and his eyes gazing into your soul.

You took the time to let your eyes trail over him, noticing how visible his ribs were as he took a deep, shuddering breath.

Still, as you took in the soft, slightly scarred state of his skin and how the smile on his face was the biggest and brightest you had ever seen, your hands found his and you couldn’t understand how somebody could be so perfect.

“And you are breathtaking.”

In an impossible feat, his smile widened.

With a playful tweak of your lips, you let go of one of his hands. You gripped his length in your hand, the way in which his eyes rolled back into his head spreading warmth throughout your chest. As you guided him towards your dripping entrance, the option to actually thrust into you was left to him. The last thing you wanted was to push him to do anything at a pace he wasn’t comfortable with.

After what felt like a lifetime, he pushed into you, your hands automatically gripping his shoulders and your thighs tightening around his hips.

A curse left Arthur’s lips, his tongue peeking from the corner of his mouth while his fingers dug into your waist.

You rolled your hips to meet his every thrust, your hands pulling on him until all of his weight was on you, his soft lips on yours. Your legs found a new spot around his hips, his thrusts now quick and short yet just as earth-shattering.

Soft murmurs left his lips, tears glistened in his eyes and you found your hand cradling the side of his face, a smile on your lips as he leaned into the touch.

“This is the prettiest I’ve ever seen you,” you laughed as your eyes roamed over his almost bare face. He resembled an angelic cherub, his curls falling over his eyes, his cheeks flushed, his lips a vibrant ruby red.

Arthur cocked his eyebrow before his thumb found your clit, effectively silencing any other smart-ass comment you would’ve liked to offer.

That familiar warmth coursed through your veins and soon enough you found your toes curling, your walls clenching around him as you came with a prayer consisting of only his name.

Arthur didn’t have too much time to appreciate the sheer beauty of you coming undone around him before his pace faltered. With a bruising grip on your hips, he stilled inside of you, his warmth claiming you and marking your insides until you couldn’t take any more and its only option was to trickle down your thighs.

He collapsed beside you, his hand on yours as he gently pulled you into him, so the back of your head rested on his shoulder.

Nothing was said as the both of you tried regaining your breath. Your eyes fluttered shut, trying to engrave the sound of his breathing into your brain.

“Why me?” he whispered, breaking the silence enveloping the room.

Your eyebrows furrowed in confusion as you maneuvered yourself in his arms, your chin on his chest and your legs tangled with his.

“You like me. Why me?” he continued, his Adam’s apple bobbing in anticipation.

“Because you are an extraordinary man. Your smile could light up galaxies, the goodness in your heart is indescribable. Because I think I may love you. All of you.”

“You see me?” he questioned, his eyes wide and incredulous.

Your heart tightened with sadness, unable to understand how someone as genuinely good as Arthur could be led to believe he was invisible, unlovable.

“Always have, always will.”


End file.
